


Forest of Glass

by Mypilot



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mypilot/pseuds/Mypilot
Summary: The kingdom of Rekhanci has underwent many changes over the years, but they've also grown accustomed to certain truths. To the north, the Witchwood is a constant presence and, too often, an enemy. The creatures that are born from its glassy trees are not to be trifled with, but the Keepers of the Witchwood were long ago tasked with keeping the horrors of the wood at bay, and they'd done so with great care.Now, the forest that normally births monsters instead brings two seemingly normal dragons into the world: one with no memory of his past and the other a child with alarming intelligence in her eyes. But as time goes on, it becomes quickly apparent that not all is what it seems, and that times once again are changing. Can the dragons of Rekhanci prepare for this? Can two dragons born from the Wood hope to defeat it?





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! I'm very excited to share this story with all of you, and I hope I can do the characters justice. The main characters can be seen on [this tab](https://www1.flightrising.com/den/118152/1031365) with the rest of the Rekhanci dragons elsewhere in my hibernal den. I'll also link non-main characters at the beginning of each chapter for easier access.
> 
> [Lior](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=25641311)  
> [Watchtower dragon](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=39704399)  
> [Pyrrhus](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=11209181)  
> [Helios](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=29559286%22)

_Taste life once more, frozen dreamer._

Ikarian blinked into wakefulness. Nestled deep in a cluster of stiff leaves and roots, he groaned in discomfort. His body felt as frozen as the earth he rested on, as if he hadn’t known sunlight in quite some time. Pinpricks needled at his bones, but when Ikarian stretched he felt strength return to him slowly.

The snow crunched beneath his weight. Ikarian shifted onto his belly and stretched his wings, reminding himself that they were there. They’d been buried in a foot of snow, but they shook at his command, clumps of the white powder sliding off damp feathers and leathery skin. Even as he shook the snow off, however, the chill lingered.

All around Ikarian, the forest lay silent. Nothing made noise, and it seemed even the trees recoiled when he stirred with life. What was this thing, the forest wondered, to live and breathe among them? How had it escaped a frozen death?

Rather than ponder his place amongst the trees made of glass, Ikarian instead stood onto his shaking feet, letting his claws burrow into the snow as he rose. Shaky with fatigue and a strange sense of weakness, it was a moment before the dragon was able to collect himself. His mind felt dizzy, train of thought trying to chase down that voice he’d heard just before he’d woken. And how had he gotten here in this wood? Where was this place?

Ikarian took a step and nearly stumbled, his feet buried a few inches in the snow. His were the only prints in the blanket of white around him, for not even the faint trails of wildlife could be seen. If anything lived in this wood, it did not rest on the ground.

As if to prove him wrong, the crunch of snow sounded behind him. Ikarian whirled around, fear jumping into his throat, but was surprised to see that it was no fiend that had snuck up on him.

Just across the way, another dragon stood, as vivid in colour as the sun. In the world of white snow and ice, this creature only added to the brilliance. She had scales of yellow and gold, with stark white eyes to match. Ikarian fancied they were of similar build, all feathered crests and lithe legs. He straightened as he caught the other's eye, trying to not appear so startled, even as his heart beat frantically in his chest.

It seemed he hadn’t of bothered. The other dragon had eyes wide with surprise, staring at him as if he were an abnormality. Something _other_. “You’re...alive.” Her voice was melodic, gentle. Alone in the clearing, it echoed, but in any other setting it was not the sort of voice that would bear weight.

Ikarian ruffled his wings. “I suppose I am,” he said back, uncertainty in his voice. “Who are you?”

The dragon seemed to remember herself, blinking away her surprise. “A Keeper,” she said, lifting her chin. “I am patrolling these parts.”

The way she spoke, Ikarian suspected he was supposed to know what that title meant. It conjured no memory for him, no meaning. He shifted his weight. “I see.” Although he did not. “And what are these parts exactly?”

“Eleven sent,” the dragon whispered. Louder, she asked, “Don’t you know where you are, stranger?” As Ikarian shook his head, she took a step back. “Perhaps… Perhaps you should come with me, then. These woods are dangerous, and this isn’t a conversation meant to be had in the open.”

It seemed a poor decision to follow a strange dragon deeper into the woods, but Ikarian reasoned that, at the moment, _everything_ felt strange. If he was being honest with himself, Ikarian couldn’t quite remember how he’d even gotten into the forest in the first place.

When the dragon of pale light turned and moved through the trees, Ikarian followed. He hopped nimbly over a fallen log—it was cracked like broken glass, with fissures running along its icy trunk—and followed after. As they walked, he took note of the unusual forest and its unusual trees. All around them was white, and not just the snow covered floor. The trees themselves seemed to be made of it, from the frosted trunks to the leaves like glass, rattling together in the wind. It was an eerie combination of sights and sounds, and yet beautiful too. Beautiful in that strange way that frightening things often are.

“Pyrrhus will ask you many questions, stranger.” The other dragon turned to look at him as she walked, white eyes piercing. “Will you be prepared to answer them?”

Ikarian opened his mouth. Closed it. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I don’t remember much.”

After a beat, the other faced forward once more. Over their shoulder, they spoke. “Do you remember your name at least?”

The easiest question they’d asked so far. “Ikarian.”

“I am Lior.”

“Lior,” Ikarian echoed quietly to himself. To her, he asked, “Who is Pyrrhus to you?”

“He leads my group. We watch over these woods.”

“Your group being the...Keepers?” Ikarian pondered the word, wondering what it was they were keeping. The forest itself? What a strange thing to watch over, this place filled with nothing and no one.

“A part of it. You will meet my companions, and perhaps one of them can help your memory find its way back.” Lior paused, coming to a standstill in a thick of trees. She turned and squinted into the distance, trying to see through the fine mist and fog that wove its way through the pines.

“Do you not know the way?” Ikarian asked.

“Of course I know the way,” Lior snapped. She paused. “I was just searching the woods for something.” They resumed their pace, picking through the snow. “It is lucky to see nothing in these woods.”

Ikarian, at least, could believe that. The normal cold of the air was nothing like the unnatural chill that followed them in the strange forest. He was certain that anything found within the woods would be an unwelcoming sight. Present company excluded, hopefully.

Ikarian lowered his gaze onto the snowy floor as they walked, brow furrowed as he thought. So wrapped in his musings was he that it took a moment for him to notice something. “Lior,” he said, surprise in his voice. “You leave no footprints.”

She laughed. “Sharp of you to notice. You’re right, of course. It is magic to hide our trail. We don’t want anything following us, and especially not to the hideout.” Lior turned her head to look back at him, nodding at his feet. “I’ve hidden yours as well.”

With widened eyes, Ikarian stopped to look behind him. Indeed, the path they’d just walked along was full of fresh, untouched snow. No sign they’d been there. Perhaps, then, someone had hidden his footprints before he’d woken?

It was a few moments more before the forest changed. Not in appearance, for the frosted trees still sat stagnant all around them, but slowly the mist dissipated and was replaced instead with the warmth of the sun reflecting off of the ice trees. Ikarian didn’t know they’d reached their destination until a voice broke the silence.

“Speak your name!” The voice shot out of the trees, loud and confident.

“It is Lior! I bring a friend.” The pair stopped in the middle of what was, as far as Ikarian could tell, absolutely nowhere. He pointed his gaze forward, where the voice had come from, but the snow banks revealed nothing.

“Enter.”

Confidently, Lior led them forward. A few feet forward and the sharp smell of magic struck Ikarian, like sulfur and burning metal. Immediately after, the sight before him changed. Where before there had been nothing, an entire camp was sprawled out. It was as if they’d passed through a wall, and now were welcomed on the other side.

“Who’s the guy?” The voice was the same as before, but now came from above. Ikarian tilted his head back to look up the watchtower at the speaker, a sunset coloured dragon with sharp teeth and an even sharper stare. Her eyes were the colour of a bruised sunset, the purple of Shadow flight.

Lior stopped to talk. “I found him in the woods,” she replied. “I’m bringing him to Pyrrhus.”

“You checked that he isn’t some trick?”

“Of course. He is mortal and warm-blooded. Same as you and I.”

There was a pause as the two stared each other down, then the other shrugged. “Alright, well you’ll want to hurry along then. Think Pyrrhus is ready to head out to meet Farran soon.” She disappeared beyond the rails.

Lior hummed in acknowledgement and walked off. After a moment, looking between the two, Ikarian tentatively followed.

Around them, life thrived even in the middle of such a desolate wood. Ikarian couldn’t help but watch with wide eyes as dragons of all sorts moved through the camp, talking and living. And amidst all those dragons, human forms walked, too. Ikarian dug at his mind to remember the last time he’d seen a dragon with enough magic to properly shift into the two legged forms that he saw now. He needn’t have bothered—his memory was still a chasm of nothing. Still, he had the feeling that where he’d been before waking up was not as lively as the place he was now. Certainly if someone was missing him, he wouldn’t have woken up in a forest alone.

“It’s midday, so you’ve caught us at our busiest,” Lior explained. She’d slowed her pace so that they walked side by side, clearly in no rush now that they were in the safety of the encampment. “Most patrols return around now to eat and rest before nightfall. I am one of the few who usually stays out all noon.”

“Why?”

Lior shrugged. “Someone has to. I don’t mind it; it makes the forest feel serene at times, although that is only an illusion.”

“Is it truly so dangerous?” Ikarian asked, tilting his head. “The only thing I saw out there was you.”

“It’s… The Witchwood doesn’t always show its face. Even it must rest every now and then.” She paused. “Some even think it is weaker during noon. When the sun is highest and warmest. It’s certainly stronger during snow storms and the like.”

 _The Witchwood._ The name sounded fitting, for the forest itself felt like the ideal home for some wicked thing with its skeletal trees.

“At any rate, you were lucky I found you when I did. If it had been night…” Lior trailed off, and Ikarian didn’t like the implication enough to ask further.

Lior led him to a tent, although it was much more impressive than the word implied. It was easily big enough to hold even the largest of imperials, right down to the antlers that sprouted from their heads. The green of the mesh was earthy and dark, made of a material that likely kept out the permanent chill in the air and the dampness that came with snow.

Once they’d ducked inside, Ikarian was surprised with a pleasant warmth in the air, a heat that suggested some magic was at use. The chill was chased out of Ikarian and he shuddered his wings to readjust to the welcome temperature change.

“Pyrrhus.” Lior had left Ikarian just beside the entrance, striding right up to a sun coloured skydancer with wings of orange flame and bronze armor to match. He was sitting at a small table with another skydancer, this one sunset coloured and wearing delicate silk cloth. As the skydancer named Pyrrhus turned to look at Lior, the glass-like texture of his wings caught the light and reflected a hundred times. Ikarian was captivated by the sight, staring wide eyed at him.

“Lior,” Pyrrhus, bowing his head politely. “You’ve returned from your patrol early. Is everything well?”

Lior bowed quickly in return. “Yes, sir. I saw no dangers in the woods today. However,” here she turned to gesture broadly at Ikarian with a wing, “I did find this.”

Pyrrhus turned his head to look at him, and Ikarian was surprised to find that the fiery skydancer had eyes of brilliant blue. Water flight. “The woods are full of many surprises,” Pyrrhus said, taking Ikarian in with one sweep of his gaze. “I never expected a stranger to be among them.”

There was a moment of silence where Ikarian thought he should say something. “The unexpected is the nature of a surprise, isn’t it?”

Pyrrhus smiled. “Indeed.” He stepped forward and, with a great shake of his feathers, began to change shape right before Ikarian’s eyes. Where once there was the four-legged dragon, now stood a bipedal man. Although he was utterly changed, Ikarian noted that the brilliant blue eyes were the same.

“I hope you don’t mind the shift,” Pyrrhus said, stepping closer. “I prefer to examine newcomers like this. I find it easier.” When Ikarian mutely shook his head, Pyrrhus reached out and took hold of the skydancer’s jaw, tilting Ikarian’s head up to look at him.

“You are of Ice?” Pyrrhus asked.

“Yes.”

Magic buzzed along Ikarian’s scales, gentle as the wind. “Average magic within you. But there is magic there that isn’t your own, foreign to you.” Pyrrhus released Ikarian’s jaw and stepped around his side, lifting the others' wings and peering at them. “Did you meet anyone in the woods?”

“Besides Lior? No.” Ikarian hesitated. “Well… At least not that I remember. I don’t recall much from before I woke.” He shifted uncomfortably under Pyrrhus’ prodding.

“Interesting indeed.” Pyrrhus walked in front of Ikarian again, turning once he was beside Lior again. “You say you remember nothing, but I hope you will still be able to answer a question for me.”

Feeling suddenly nervous, Ikarian shifted uncomfortably. “I can try.”

“Do you, at any point, remember being with a child?”

Ikarian blinked. That was certainly not a question he had expected. “I- No. A child? Who?”

Pyrrhus pursed his lips. “I was hoping you could tell me.” He waved at the other skydancer who had still not risen from the pile of cushions he’d been sitting on. 

“Helios, would you?”

“Certainly.” The one called Helios rose gracefully, as lovely as a dancer, and turned to the back of the tent where a curtain hung to divide the room in two. He nosed his way through and disappeared momentarily before returning—now as an olive skinned man with sunset hair and eyes of luminous gold. In his arms was a small hatchling, a nocturne, who slept soundly. The nocturne, too, was coloured in warm red hues with wings of a yellow gradient. Their smooth leathery hide was patterned by swirls of brown, orange, and yellow. They had a belly of glass, with something strange swirling around inside that glinted in the lamplight. Helios carried them gently in his arms, and they did not wake.

Lior looked momentarily confused. “I don’t understand. Who is this?”

“We don’t know.” As Helios came to stand beside Pyrrhus, the other feathered a hand over the nocturne’s brow. “She was discovered in the woods, same as your friend here, by Elanor and Artemis. They claimed she was awake at the time, but spoke only her name when asked. Skoria.”

Here, Pyrrhus turned his gaze to Ikarian, but he did not meet it. His eyes were firmly fixed on the child whose eyelids fluttered open at that precise moment. A beat of magic seemed to pierce through the air, and Ikarian took a step forward with it.

When the nocturne fully opened its berry-purple eyes and settled them on the skydancer before her, she smiled. “Ikarian,” she said warmly. “There you are.”


	2. The Learning of Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing:
> 
> [Astraea](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=13772765)  
> [Artemis](https://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=118152&tab=dragon&did=33084108)

“Are you sure you want to leave?”

Ikarian tilted his head to the side, tearing his gaze away from the forest. He stood at the top of one of the Keepers watchtowers, sat back on his haunches as he stared at the unchanging scene before him. He’d been this way for several hours, lost in thought, until Lior spoke and shook him from his stupor.

Smiling at her, Ikarian turned away from the forest. “No,” he admitted, “but it seems right. Especially after…”

“After Skoria knew you?” Lior tilted her head, looking at Ikarian with furrowed brows. “Do you truly not know her?”

“Truly.” Ikarian sighed, looking down. “Although...there was a touch of something. Magic, maybe? A stronger sense of intuition.” He looked back up. “It’s all I have to go off of.”

Lior came to stand beside him, ruffling her wings. “I understand.” She looked out into the Witchwood with a scrutinizing eye. “I’m certain that our mages in Rekhanci can heal your memory, or at the very least discern what connects you to the child.”

“I hope so,” Ikarian replied. “A part of me feels like I’m doing Skoria a disservice not to know her.”

“Ikarian,” Skoria said warmly. “There you are.”

“I-” Ikarian faltered in his steps, blinking back into himself. “I don’t understand.” He furrowed his brow, looking between the hatchling and the others.

“You know him?” Pyrrhus asked, grabbing Helios’ shoulder and turning him to look at Skoria. “You know this dragon?”

Skoria blinked up at Pyrrhus with shimmering purple eyes. “I do,” she said, then paused. “Well, sort of. It’s...not all certain.”

This time Lior spoke up. “What does that mean?”

Skoria shook her head as if shaking out cobwebs. “The Witchwood confuses us all.”

Ikarian was taken aback. This child was so...unusual. She spoke too intelligently, looked at him too sharply, and, strangest of all, it felt as if she bore the weight of something deep within her. Could she really be connected to him?

With Skoria awake, Helios knelt and deposited her on the ground. She sat back on her haunches and looked up at them all searchingly. “You believe me, don’t you?” Skoria asked, tilting her head. “I don’t want to go back out there.” She shrunk into herself, and all of Ikarian’s doubts vanished. The magic within him grew solid, certain: she was meant to stay by his side.

Lior fidgeted by his side. “You don’t find her...strange?” She glanced at him and quickly away. “It’s as if she’s part Witchwood herself.”  
Stiffening, Ikarian frowned. “No,” he said resolutely, even if he’d had doubts himself. Magic, however, did not lie. Would not lie. “Your city’s mages will restore my memory, and then they will restore whatever has nested itself in her heart.”

Although she didn’t look convinced, Lior didn’t argue. “Come on,” she said, waving at him and moving toward the ladder. “Pyrrhus had the cooks prepare a feast of sorts for you two.” She smiled. “Although, with only stringy deer meat and old kale in our storage, it isn’t that exciting of a feast.”

Ikarian laughed. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it just the same.” Standing, he stretched the cold out of his bones and moved towards the ladder. Both dragons simply flew down, however, letting their wings catch the air to cushion their descent.

“You’ll love Rekhanci,” Lior said conversationally on their way over. “It’s lively and beautiful there. The Archmage’s magic keeps the entire city spring-warm, and people visit from all over. You can find just about anything within it.”

“Sounds lovely indeed,” Ikarian said. “When was the last time you got to return to it?”

“Oh, some time indeed. In a way, the Witchwood is my home now. I’ve spent more time here than in any other place, and I know it like an old friend.” Lior looked at Ikarian coyly. “Although, we’re hardly friends.”

“Wouldn’t be a very good friend, no.”

Laughing, Lior brushed through the snow. They were in the center of the camp, the path well trodden and the snow browned with dirt. A few dragons went about their business, working thick leather into armor or skinning the bleeding haunch of a stag. Almost all the dragons in the camp were as warmly coloured as Lior, and they stuck out like small suns in the vastness of space, single pinpricks of light in the otherwise dull and dreary camp, nestled within a dark and foreboding forest. Their luminance alone gave Ikarian a bit of warmth.

“Pyrrhus mentioned loaning you a couple of our own to guide you through the forest,” Lior said as they approached the slew of tables where the dragons of the Witchwood took their meals. “I would go myself, but I can’t spare the time. Patrolling doesn’t quit, after all.”

“No worries at all.” Ikarian flicked Lior with his tail. “Your presence will be missed, but I understand the importance of what you do here.”

Lior grinned. “I appreciate it. Here, there’s some empty seats over there.”

The tables were half filled already, dragons of all sorts chatting lightly to themselves. Most were in their bipedal forms, likely to make it easier to fit, whereas other tables worked around dragon sizes in different ways. Lior had gestured to a lowered table with soft pillows for seating where a few skydancers had laid down at.

The food hadn’t been served yet, but as others slowly trickled in, Ikarian’s hunger grew. Finally Pyrhhus himself arrived, a female skydancer Ikarian didn’t recognize at her side.

“Who’s that?” he whispered to Lior.

“Astraea. She’s basically his right-hand-man. Or woman, as it were.”

Pyrrhus stood before the array of tables, hands clasped behind his back. “Another day of survival in this wretched forest. Another night of life. The forest has granted us two new friends today, but in the morning we will say goodbye to them both as they head to our home, Rekhanci. May the Eleven guide their path in the future, but tonight we will guide them to full stomachs and fuller hearts. Eat well, my brethren.” He raised a glass and the dragons all roared out words of praise and good will. Ikarian was grateful for the kind words, but quickly turned away from the many dragons who craned their necks to take a look.

“Not a fan of being popular?” Lior asked with a grin. “It’s not often we see new faces, after all.”

“I wouldn’t think my face is that exciting to see,” Ikarian grumbled. His stomach grumbled back. “When are we eating?”

“Oh, right about now.” As she spoke, food was deftly placed in front of them all out of seemingly nowhere. More magic, it would seem. The platters were full of roasted meats, smoked bits of fish, and vegetables that looked freshly picked. It smelled delicious and Ikarian’s eyes widened in delight.

“What happened to stringy deer meat and old kale?” he said to Lior, raising a brow.

Lior laughed, stabbing at a bit of fish with her fork. “I’m sure there’s some of that around here somewhere.” She lifted her fork to take a bite and then lowered it. “Ah, there you are. Thought you were going to miss the big meal.”

Ikarian looked up and met the keen eyes of Skoria. She rested atop the back of Helios, clinging to his feathers and peering around his neck.

“Well, Skoria was reluctant to join at first. But then I said Ikarian would be here and…” He trailed off, smiling. As if on cue, Skoria glided off his back and onto the pillows beside Ikarian. Her searching eyes brought him back to the day previous.

“Let’s start with what you remember,” Pyrrhus said, speaking to both of them. “It seems to me that you both have blocks in your memories. Perhaps you can fill in the blanks for each other.”

Ikarian hoped he didn’t look as uncertain as he felt. “Alright,” he said back.

“Did you wake up in the forest, too?” Skoria asked, peering up at Ikarian. “Alone?” When he nodded, she smiled. “That’s a relief. Unfortunate, I mean, but I’m glad to not be alone in this.”

“It was a frightening thing to wake up to.” This, at least, Ikarian could say with certainty. The sterile forest, the solitude, the complete and utter silence. And no memory of what came before, as if to top it all off.

“Skoria, you remember nothing as well?” Pyrrhus looked at the nocturne with a tilt of his head.

“Well…” She fidgeted with her hands, staring blankly ahead. “I have these snapchats of images in my head. They feel like memories, but I can’t place them. I don’t recognize those in the memories, or their relation to me.” She blinked up at Ikarian. “I remember your face and your name. I remember wanting to look for you.”

Ikarian knelt on the ground to be eye level with her. “But why? I- I don’t know you at all.” He felt he should mention the magic that drew him towards her, how it felt like what he imagined a guardian’s Search would feel like.

Skoria shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I am so certain I had to meet you.” She cut her gaze away. “I just don’t know why.”

“What then?” Lior asked, speaking to the group. “Two dragons with no memories and both having been lost in the woods for who knows how long. They can’t stay here.” She said the last part with a twinge of regret, looking between the two.

Helios spoke up, sounding more certain than the rest of them. “They should go to Rekhanci.” He turned to look at Pyrrhus. “They should speak with the Archmage, meet with the Kazirin. We cannot fill in the blankets, but perhaps their magic can.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Pyrrhus began to pace about the room. “I’ll have to send a bird with a message in advance. And they’ll need two Keepers at least to guide them out…”

Ikarian tore his gaze away from Pyrrhus to look at Skoria, who was already eyeing him. To Rekhanci, then.

“Hello, Ikarian,” Skoria said brightly. She sat upright on the bench and eyed the plate full of goodies before her. “And Lior.”

“Have a pleasant nap, Skoria?” Lior asked with a smile. As soon as the others had come to the conclusion of them going to Rekhanci, sleepiness seemed to overtake the hatchling once more, and they were all quickly ushered out so she might sleep. Now, she looked as alert as ever.

“I did!” Skoria beamed.

Helios took the seat across from Lior. “Pyrrhus spoke to me. Artemis and I will be going as the guard.”

“Artemis.” Lior nodded knowingly. “She’ll be excited to see her father, no doubt.”

“Perhaps. Pyrrhus reasoned it would be best since she was one of the two who found Skoria in the first place.”

Familiarity was important, Ikarian knew. He was glad to hear that Helios was going, as the other skydancer’s calm personality was assuring. He hoped this Artemis would be good company as well, as he had no idea what sort of journey it was going to be to Rekhanci.

“How far is the city from here?” Ikarian asked, following his train of thought. “How long will we be travelling?”

“Oh, not too terribly far. About a quarter days trip.” Lior waved a piece of bread at Ikarian. “But more than likely you’ll take a few breaks, so if you leave in the morning you should get there shortly after noon.”

“Won’t it be cold?”

“That is why I am going.” Helios’ smile was slight. “Although not so good as Fire, I am a Light dragon and I can keep us warm enough while we travel.”

“And Artemis is good with magic,” Lior added. “She’s an Ice dragon; she can probably chase out some of the chill and keep away any storms that might decide to show up.”

Ikarian nodded in understanding. “The cold never quite took to me, but if Skoria is kept warm then I suppose that’s all that matters.” He looked down at the nocturne as she ate, chewing intently on the meat. Catching his gaze, she offered him a piece, but Ikarian shook his head no.

“You’ve got no meat on your plate!” Skoria protested.

“I’m a skydancer,” he replied back with a laugh. “I don’t eat meat.”

Skoria looked appalled, staring between the three skydancers before her. “ _Ever?_ ”

They all laughed, and Skoria, not getting the joke, kept trying to insist upon them pieces of the meat she was tearing into.

Shortly, Pyrrhus joined them. He and the woman he walked with were in their bipedal forms, but where Pyrrhus’ shapeshifting was utterly seamless into the humanoid shape, the others magic mustn’t have been as strong as she still wore signs of her dragon breed on her person. Antlers, smaller than a regular imperials, sprouted from her head, and her hair was a gradient of yellow and pink. There was a faint shimmer of iridescence on her skin, and her eyes were a vivid white.

“This is Artemis,” Pyrrhus introduced. “I’m sure Helios has already told you, but they will be the two taking you out of the Witchwood and to Rekhanci.”

Ikarian dipped his head in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Pyrrhus told me you were the one who originally found Skoria.”

“Yes,” said Artemis, “with Elanor. She was half buried in snow and deep in the wood.” Artemis looked down at Skoria. “She was asleep at the time, except to tell us her name.”

Skoria dropped the meat she was holding and ruffled her wings. “I remember you,” she said back. “You and the one with white armor and feathers.”

Artemis smiled. “My mother, yes.”

“Your mother!” Skoria’s eyes widened. “But she is like me, and you were so _large_ as a dragon.”

Pyrrhus quickly cut in. “Artemis will be staying in Rekhanci for a bit after taking you two there.” He waved a hand. “Family matters and all that.”

“But not Helios?” Skoria asked with a frown.

“Unfortunately, I am needed here.” Helios dipped his head in apology. “I will stay long enough to see you and Ikarian arrive safely, and then I must head back.”

“All alone?”

Helios nodded. “All alone.”

“Skoria, we’ve given you a place to sleep next to Ikarian. We’ll also prepare travel packs for all four of you that will be just outside your sleeping quarters in the morning. You’ll leave shortly after breakfast.” Pyrrhus clasped his hands together. “I think that’s all I have for you now, so I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your meal in peace.” He nodded a farewell and then departed, Artemis at his side.  
“I thought she was going to stay and talk with us,” Skoria muttered, turning back towards the table.

Ikarian laughed. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other tomorrow.”

Skoria’s shimmering eyes seemed to catch even more light. “Tomorrow,” she said with barely constrained excitement.

The feast lasted well into the night, but the travelers didn’t stay up to see it. They all took to their beds while the revelry continued on outside, but it was easy enough to succumb to sleep despite it.

In the morning, Ikarian woke to find Skoria already awake, pacing outside his tent. “Oh, finally,” she said as if she’d been waiting for some time. “Clearly, my idea of the morning and everyone else's idea is not the same.”

“How long have you been up?” Ikarian asked with a tired squint. “You should have been resting more.”

“I slept four hours last night,” Skoria replied back quickly. “I’m as well rested as I’m going to get. What about you? Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.”

“Good.” She nodded at the side of his door. “Looks like we all got the same stuff in our packs. Food and supplies.”

Ikarian turned to look, lowering his head to nose at the bag. “Useful,” he replied. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Leading the way to the community center again, Ikarian was surprised to find any evidence of last night revelries had vanished. It looked clean and untouched, although a dragon sat at a table dishing out breakfast food to any dragon who approached.

Food in hand and seated at a table, Skoria frowned at the food. “Is this really what they eat for breakfast every day?” She scowled at the assortment of meat and bugs on her plate.

“Eat up!” Lior plopped down beside Ikarian from seemingly nowhere. With less enthusiasm, Helios took a seat across from them. Lior pointed a claw at Skoria’s plate. “It’s good for you.”

Skoria made an even more unpleasant face at the assortment of green mush and bugs on the others plates. “All of you and your plants,” she said with distaste. “I don’t know how you bear it.”

As before, Pyrrhus and Artemis joined them shortly after they’d been eating. “Better eat it all up,” he said pleasantly. “It’ll keep you warm and energized during the trip.”

“Did you eat?” Ikarian asked Artemis.

“I did.”

Helios nodded at their near-empty plates. “I think we’re just about done here,” he said. “Are we all ready to head out?”

Ikarian glanced at Skoria, but she only shrugged. “I guess so,” he said plainly. “We’ll just need to grab our stuff.”

Helios rose from the table. “Then I’ll meet you all at the gates. Lior, will you show them?” Lior nodded and Helios set off to his own tent.

“I will see you all there,” Artemis said, also turning and leaving.

Cleaning up their plates, the three dragons ambled back to their tents. Skoria’s bag was small enough that Ikarian carried it, tying it loosely to his own pack. He carried Skoria too, the nocturne sitting on top of his bag and peering over his feathers ahead of them.

“Once you’re out of the Witchwood, it’ll be smooth sailing,” Lior was saying. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any storm at all, and it’s a clear enough day that the sun should keep you warm.”

“A good time to be traveling,” Ikarian agreed with a yawn. “Anything we need to worry about when it comes to the Witchwood?”

“The others will take care of you,” Lior assured. She tapped Ikarian with her tail. “Just let them handle anything you might stumble upon out there. They’re trained to do it.”

Not particularly promising, but it would do. “Got it.”

The entrance of the camp town was marked by the watchtower Ikarian and Lior had passed when they’d entered, although this time he didn’t see the sunset coloured wildclaw at its top. Artemis, Helios, and Pyrrhus waited at the foot of the tower talking quietly amongst themselves. When Pyrrhus saw the other three approach, he turned and waved a hand in greeting.

“Well, the time has come,” he said once they drew near. “You’ve been a delight to have as guests, but I am certain Rekhanci will fare better for you. I certainly hope it has the answers to all your questions, chief of which being what happened to your memories.”

“I hope we’ll meet again,” Ikarian said politely. “Although I think it would be too much to say I’ll miss this place.” He grinned.

Laughing, Pyrrhus shook his head. “No, I don’t think there are many who would miss the Witchwood.” To Artemis and Helios, he nodded. “Lead them through it well. Helios, I expect you back before nightfall. Artemis, send a message once you’ve arrived at the city.” He offered a small smile. “And try not to stay too long there, or else we’ll start to miss you.”

“Hopefully it won’t be too long at all.” Artemis moved toward the gate and then stopped, shaking herself off as if getting rid of dust on her clothes. Instead, she simply shifted back into her dragon form. “It’s time to go.”

“Goodbye, Pyrrhus!” Skoria said, flying up to give him a hug around the neck. “Thank you for everything.”

Ikarian turned to Lior, dipping his head in farewell. “I hope we’ll see each other again,” he said and meant it. “You’ve been an excellent friend.”

“Take care, Ikarian,” Lior said back. “And take care of that Skoria, too. She’ll need you through all of this, and maybe even well after.”

They all waved their final farewells, and then Artemis took the lead and led them out of the camp town and into the silent Witchwood.


	3. The Flight

It was different with four dragons. The sound of their footfalls filled the silence, and Ikarian was made warm by the company. He missed the new friend he had made in Lior, but was reassured by the path they were taking. Skoria chattered away in his ear, a reminder of what they hoped to achieve. It was a relief to not be alone in his forgetfulness.

“We won’t stop while we’re in the forest,” Artemis said to them, speaking over her shoulder. Larger than they all were, she kept her head lowered and close to the ground, like a serpent twisting its way through the trees. “It’d be too dangerous to rest.”

Helios, who had also switched to his draconic form, nodded in agreement. “We’ll make fast time this way, too. If we don’t run into any problems, it’ll only be an hour or so of walking.”

“What kind of problems could we run into?” Ikarian asked. Lior had hinted at the sort of terrors that lingered in these woods, but had never gone into detail. A morbid part of Ikarian was curious at what sort of dreaded creatures haunted the icy pines.

There was a moment's pause before Helios answered. “The trees themselves are alive.” It was the sort of phrase that made one want to stop and stare, but as the others kept walking, so too did Ikarian. “What you see around you are inactive creatures. We don’t know what wakes them, but they’re dreadfully hard to beat when they come to themselves. We call them harvestmen.”

Ikarian was silent in thought. He wasn’t sure if he was comforted or horrified by the means of their awakening being unknown. Frightening because it could happen at any moment, but a relief because it meant they wouldn’t wake simply because they passed by.

Skoria peaked around Ikarian’s neck. “How often does it happen?”

“Our patrols spot them several times a day,” Helios answered and, sensing the unease, added, “Mind you, the Witchwood is massive and our patrols are spread out over its area. On top of that, they don’t always attack. Sometimes we see them from a distance, just moving through the trees.”

“What is their purpose?” Ikarian asked. “What do they do?”

Artemis answered this time, stopping to turn and fully look at the others. “They are agents of the forest. As the trees are alive, so is the forest itself. They would kill any living creature within and expand the forest's reach. This is why we fight them.”

Her words felt more like a declaration, not just to Ikarian and Skoria, but to the forest itself. Perhaps, even unawakened, the trees were listening.

“Come now,” Helios said, in the brief silence that came after, “let’s keep moving.”

They moved with haste, keeping a straight path except to walk around the occasionally tightly wound cluster of trees or, mysteriously, when Artemis would avoid a spot by walking a wide path around it. It wasn’t until Ikarian had seen one of the trees shift and move, silent but swift, that he understood. The harvestmen did not see them, and so Artemis wished to keep them unseen.

Over the next half hour of walking, the scene remained vastly unchanged, so when Ikarian spotted a shock of deep sea blue amidst the white, he drew short. Skoria, apparently dozing on his backside, startled awake.

“What is it?” Helios asked, having drawn up the rear. He came to stand beside Ikarian, looking at him quizzically and following his gaze into the woods. At his voice, Artemis halted too, turning to look at them.

Ikarian squinted into the trees. The blue drifted through the wood, too far away to make out any details. Was it a dragon? But then it stepped behind a patch of trees and was gone from his sight.

“What was that?” Skoria asked, peering sharply in the same direction.

Helios, face twisted in confusion, looked back to them. “What was what?” he asked.

Ikarian shifted in place. “It looked like...a dragon?”

“A large one,” Skoria added.

Helios looked at Artemis, then back into the woods. Ikarian didn’t miss the trace of skepticism. They only looked around for a moment before Artemis grabbed their attention once more.

“We’ll keep moving. They’ve gone by now, if they were here to begin with.” Without waiting, she turned back towards the path they walked, not looking to see if they followed. Ikarian glanced at Helios, but the other dragon only shrugged and nodded that they should continue.

“Perhaps it was one of the Glass Spire,” Helios called out, peering around Ikarian and Skoria’s form to see Artemis. “They’ve plenty of large dragons in their ranks.”

Artemis kept walking, but turned her head so her voice would be heard. “It’s possible,” she replied, “although they don’t often leave the realm of mirrors unless absolutely necessary.”

To Skoria, Ikarian whispered, “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

“Not a clue.”

Ikarian smiled, then asked louder, “What’s the Glass Spire? And what’s the realm of mirrors?”

“The realm of mirrors is basically what we call the realm that…mirrors our own. Or, well, this forest anyway.” Helios seemed to flounder for a good way to explain it. “You see, all the trees here are made out of ice, smooth enough to look like glass. You can often see your own reflection in it, and a well trained dragon might even learn how to step right through.”

“Harvestmen aren’t the only dreadful things in this forest,” Artemis added. “There are creatures called whispers born in the mirror realm. They are like spirits in many ways, but we don’t know how they are made.”

Helios hummed in agreement. “And the dragons of the Glass Spire are our sister group. They all volunteered to stay within the realm of mirrors. It is their duty to make sure as few whispers pass into our world as possible.”

“It’s an unpleasant job.” Artemis sounded somber. “Living within the mirror realm is a dreadful task, and dealing with those whispers every day is even worse. They’re all very brave dragons.”

There was a heavy pause which Skoria broke with another question. “So those dragons stay in the mirror realm and...live there?”

Artemis nodded. “Yes.”

Skoria paused in thought. “That seems so lonely,” she said.

“It is.”

“Do you visit them?” Ikarian asked, tilting his head curiously at Artemis. “Do any of you ever go into the mirror realm?”

Artemis twitched her tail. “Only Pyrrhus. Every day him and the Glass Spire leader, Farran, meet up. Today, Pyrrhus will visit the mirror realm. Tomorrow, Farran will visit us. Back and forth, back and forth.”

Helios, reading Ikarian’s face, walked to match the others speed. “It’s for the best. Both groups aren’t used to the others domain. It would be hard to grow accustomed to the constant change, and Farran at least will never be tempted by the physical world to desert his post.”

Ikarian tried to imagine what a leader of such a place would be like. There had to be great courage, to be sure, but did he also have kindness? Wisdom? What strengths did one need to face something as terrible sounding as the whispers?

For longer they walked. The entire trip, Ikarian noticed, was utterly unchanging. The Witchwood looked the same in every direction, and if they weren’t going perfectly straight with the sun to guide them, then he wasn’t sure how anyone would findir way around in it. They might as well have been walking in an endless limbo, a realm without exit.

Finally, however, the trees began to blessedly thin out. They grew more sparse before, eventually, falling away completely. A vast tundra lied before them, and far in the distance Ikarian could see a cliff outcropping.

“The difference between our realm and the realm of mirrors,” Artemis said suddenly, stopping at the edge of the forest and turning to face them all, “is that in our world, the Witchwood has an end.”

It was a terrifying thought to end the first leg of their journey. Artemis led them further away from the forest towards a dip in the nearly flat tundra. Here, a few massive rocks jutted from the earth, perched upright into the shape of a large stone tent big enough to fit an imperial at full size.

“We had some Earth magi create this. Many rest on journeys to and from the Witchwood, and there is little elsewhere to do it,” Helios explained, following Artemis into handmade sanctuary. The snow had drifted past the roof, but for the most part it was dry and free of snow. Artemis, before entering, shapeshifted back into her two-legged form.

“Can you do that?” Skoria asked Ikarian as he walked towards the stone wall. She nimbly hopped off his back and stood to the side, watching as he dumped their baggage.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Shapeshift.”

“Oh.” Ikarian blinked, glancing at Artemis. “I don’t know.”

Helios, listening in, flopped down on the bedroll he’d set out and said, “It requires a decent amount of innate magic. Even powerful casters have a hard time shapeshifting, and if they can at all they might not even be able to master a full shift.” His brow furrowed. “Your lost memory even bars you from this?”

Ikarian, feeling embarrassed for some reason, looked away. “It would seem so,” he said, not without feeling. He hoped the mage’s within the city could bring his memory back, and not just because they were making this entire journey to do so.

They rested long enough to eat lunch and stretch their wings. Artemis told them they’d be flying the rest of the way, now that the forest wouldn’t hold them back. Ikarian was excited, as he felt it had been some time since he’d flown, despite the fact that he could only account for a couple of days. Skoria, young and unsure, seemed less excited.

“Are you sure I can’t ride on your back?” she asked of Artemis, fidgeting in place. She looked uncertainty up in the air where, far above, Helios was flying in a wide circle to scout the nearby area.

In a rare display of softness, Artemis lowered her great head to look down at the little nocturne. “I am sure,” she said, “but I am also sure you can fly with great strength. We are lucky that all of us here are breeds made for flying.” She lifted her head, staring up to the skies. “Besides, don’t you want to taste the air?”

Skoria’s brow was furrowed in uncertainty, and when she turned to look at Ikarian he gave her a reassuring smile. Pawing at the snow, she said, “I guess so…”

While Ikarian tightly secured their bags to his backside, Helios returned from the skies, landing lightly in the snow. “All clear,” he said. “The crevasse is nearby. We can fly alongside it.”

Artemis peered in the direction of the split ice. She had explained it to Ikarian and Skoria while Helios had flown, how the crevasse was a deep fracture in the ice that went nearly down to water level. Further south, it split open wide as it reached the sea, turning into a few miles length of water that divided the kingdom from the western port. Ikarian had asked if the port had existed before the divide, and Artemis had said she didn’t know.

“But not over it, surely?” Skoria asked, nervousness in her voice.

Helios smiled. “No, not over it. Even Ikarian and I are small enough to fit in the crack, and it’s too dangerous to risk.”

“You think we would fall?” Ikarian’s voice was laced with surprise.

“Not on accident,” Helios replied. “However, there are a few unfriendly beastclan tribes in the area. They’d be all too happy to shoot out our wings and watch the ice swallow us whole.”

Beastclans. Ikarian remembered them well enough, as they were as much a part of his life as the elements and the land. They were creatures often smaller than most dragons, a group of tribes that had banded together in mutual hate for dragon kind. They were unusual creatures, reminiscent of serpents and birds. Some were even merfolk that swam unhindered in the oceanic waters without magic to fill their lungs.

“It’s time to go.” Artemis flexed her wings, stretching them far out on either side of her. “Is everyone ready?”

Three “yeses” sounded off, even if one of them was quiet and reluctant. With a great flap of her wings and a flurry of snowy powder being kicked up, Artemis took off into the air and began to rise.

“Up you go,” Ikarian said to Skoria. “I will watch you if you fall, but I’m certain you won’t.” He smiles encouragingly at her.

Skoria’s face was full of doubt, but she looked up at the sky with a great deal of concentration. She began to flap her wings, inexpertly at first, and when she began to lift off the ground she looked surprised. She dropped an inch, but caught herself, and slowly began to find the rhythm of her wingbeats.

“There you go, Skoria!” Helios called out, kicking up onto his hind legs with a laugh. “You’ve done it!”

Skoria laughed, flying a foot higher. She still looked frightened, but more sure now than before. She watched with a wide grin as Ikarian took flight and reached her height, flicking her with his tail.

“Knew you could do it,” he said. To Helios below, he nodded upwards. “Now come on, you. Before Artemis outflies us all.”

The imperial was already high above, and by the time the others flew up to her height, they were far away from where they’d started. Ikarian was grateful it was a windless day, for the chill of the air seemed only to deepen as they rose in height.

“Look down, if you wish, and see the crevasse.” Helios called out of the wind they made as they flew, and when Ikarian followed his advice he could see the long claw mark of the fractured ice. He brought his head to look beneath himself, upside down at the way they’d come. The fissure stretched well past the Witchwood, and the forest itself looked like a pale blue-white sheet of trees and ice to the east of it.

And, looking ahead, Ikarian could see the well-known jutting spires of permafrost and ice that the eastern Icefields were full of. They were crags of white from this distance, like a forest of mini mountains, and just past them, far in the distance, was a splash of colour.

“Look,” Helios said, picking up speed with his eyes wide, “there’s Rekhanci. Do you see it? That brown and red? That’s the city.” Ikarian didn’t miss the happiness in his voice, a longing to see his old home and the pride that came with loving a kingdom. It made Ikarian excited to see it all the more.

“It’s huge!” Skoria said, flying between the two. “And- oh! Is that the sea?”

Artemis, sounding as full of eagerness as Helios, called out, “It is. The great ocean that surrounds all of Sornieth, and our city gets access to it.”

From this distance, the ocean was little more than a slash of blue squeezed in between the land and the sky. It was made visible by the sun catching off it, illuminating that thin line of water with bright light.

They flew on, and Ikarian watched with amazement as the landscape changed below and before them. The crevasse vanished quickly, being replaced instead by a gouge in the earth that split wider and wider the closer they got to the southern edge. First there were icebergs, and then those faded away to be replaced by water. The divide in the land grew more and more massive and, as they stuck to the eastern side of it, they western side grew harder and harder to make out.

Soon, though, Rekhanci was before them laid out like a fine dish. Even from above, the dragons could make out the different districts of the city, the buildings that made them up. They approached from the north, and so were made to see the great palace from behind, the massive stone wall that protected it, and the towering spires were diamonds of ice rotated freely in the air, kept aloft by magic.

Artemis called out that they would need to land outside the city, to enter through the gates. Ikarian didn’t understand why until they grew closer and he could feel the magic that encircled the city. A barrier of magic was bubble around the entire place.

“Defenses?” he asked Helios, looking surprised.

Helios’ grin was toothy. “Defenses, yes. From the weather.” He laughed and flew ahead as Ikarian suddenly understood.

The road leaning into the city was packed earth, worn down and kept free of snow either by magic or by many feet walking over it. A slew of buildings hugged the exterior of the gate, some looking like homes, but others being stables and keeps for the guards.

“Do people live outside the city?” Skoria asked, having resumed her place on Ikarian’s back when they landed. She eyed the buildings on either side of the road.

“Not all mind the cold,” Artemis replied. “And, as the city grows in population, it becomes harder to find room within to live. So they expand past the walls so that they might still access the city.”

Ikarian looked on with a curious gaze, but tore his eyes away as they approached the massive gate. It arched high ahead of them. The archway itself was solid stone, but it was filled entirely with perfectly polished and packed ice, smooth as glass. It was easily high enough to bring in an entire imperial, but only a small section of the ice was cut open to allow in two-legged forms through.

“What do they do if dragons don’t know how to shapeshift?” Skoria whispered to Ikarian as they approached, guards on all sides.

“Maybe we’ll find out,” he whispered back, noting how Artemis had yet to shift into her bipedal form.

“Greetings,” Helios called out, stepping ahead of Artemis. Ikarian blinked, looking to the imperial. He had thought she was the senior between them.

“Name?” The guard's voice was muted by the helmet he wore. It obscured his face to hide even the colour of his eyes, a fact that Ikarian found interesting.

“Keeper Helios. I travel with Keeper Artemis, second daughter of the Sun Prince, and two guest friends.” Helios said the words formally and without his usual good spirits. The guards, almost immediately, fell into a kneel before Artemis.

“Stand.” Artemis’ voice was curt. Ikarian hadn’t known her long, but he imagined there was a trace of annoyance, too.

“It is good to have you home, princess.”

“Shall we notify the Imperator of your arrival, princess?”

“Is Lady Elanor not with you?”

The guards spoke in quick succession, all facing Artemis. She waited their questions out and then spoke. “You may send a letter to my father, yes, but we are first visiting the Archmage. Prepare three rooms in the castle.” When the eyes of the guards strayed to the four travelers, she added, “Keeper Helios will not be staying.” Helios’ smile was polite.

“Might we have the names of your friends?”

“Ikarian and Skoria.” Artemis pointed at each in turn with her tail.

The guard noted the names on a clipboard and then nodded at another guard. “We shall get the gate open at once.”

There was a call of voices to open the gates, being echoed only a couple of times. Ikarian watched with amazement as four guards stood in a line. They raised their hands towards the gate and, almost too quick to catch, the ice shattered into thousands of small, glittering shards. The dust was suspended in the air, a glittering cloud of ice turned into snowy powder.

Dipping into a bow, the guard stepped aside and gestured them forward. “Be well, princess.” As four, they entered the city.


End file.
